


In This Fucked Up World...

by Nelly-Belly (Nelleri)



Category: Gangsta. (Manga)
Genre: M/M, Prostitution, Protective Nico, pre-benriya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-27
Updated: 2015-07-27
Packaged: 2018-04-11 10:36:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4432214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nelleri/pseuds/Nelly-Belly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Takes place before the boys start up their Benriya service. They're 18, and Worick is starting to get less clients at <i>Pussy,</i> so he tries looking for money elsewhere. </p><p>...It doesn't end so well...</p>
            </blockquote>





	In This Fucked Up World...

**Author's Note:**

> I've fallen too hard, help... 
> 
> [brackets] used for signing

It had been a long time since the scent of blood had woken him. Ever since the money he’d saved up from mercenary jobs, and the money Worick got for working for Big Mama had afforded them their single room apartment.

He sat up slowly, sniffing the air. It was fresh. Just then the front door opened, light from the dim streetlamp flooding into the dusty room, a slender silhouette he recognized as Worick’s standing in the frame.

But something was wrong. Normally when Worick came home from work, he floated in with a grin on his face and smelling of alcohol and cigarettes… Instead he was slumped against the door frame, and all Nicolas could smell was the metallic stench of blood mixed with sweat.

Nicolas leapt from the bed and quickly crossed the small space to reach the blond. He wrapped an arm around his slim waist and noticed how the taller teen had instantly tensed up. Nicolas peered up into Worick’s face and noted the bloodied lip and bruised eye; his eye patch was missing.

“H-hey Nico.”

Nicolas read his lips, and while he couldn’t hear the crack in the other’s voice, he definitely caught the waver to his smile.

He lead Worick to the bed where he laid him down gingerly, a grimace of pain etched to his face that Nicolas hadn’t seen in years.

[What happened?] he signed, noting the blood staining the sheets at Worick’s waist; his pants were soaking through. Rips and tears littered his clothing, the buttons of his shirt miss-matched as if they’d been put on in a hurry and without care.

The blond just shook his head and curled in on himself.

Nicolas knew what kind of work Worick did from the times the blond had tried to jokingly get him to join him. He was paid to fawn over and have sex with women. Some nights he’d come home with kiss bruises on his neck, or scratches on his back… but never this. Never anything like this.

[Doctor]

Worick shook his head, sending a weak glare to Nicolas.

The young twilight reached out to scoop the blond into his arms. He tried to be gentle but it seemed Worick was still in pain. He couldn’t hear him, but he knew he must have been shouting by the strong vibrations through his ribcage.

Nicolas ignored him, he didn’t bother reading his lips, he pretended not to notice the weak fist beating against his chest, nor the tears slipping down pale cheeks. He just walked.

They reached the doctor’s office within about 10 minutes. It was still night, Nicolas guessed the sun would be rising in a few hours and hoped the doctor wouldn’t be too angry at being woken up so early.

He kicked at the door with his boot, arms still full of a shivering Worick. A familiar, young bespectacled boy answered the door; face as apathetic as ever even as he noted the poor condition of the teen Nicolas carried.

An hour later and the woman doctor allowed Nicolas to see him. He looked so much smaller than he usually did; asleep and wrapped up in bandages in the center of the large hospital bed. Nicolas noticed the needle taped to his thin forearm, the tube connected to it slowly pumping in pain medication.

A tap to his shoulder made him jerk, turning to see Theo observing him.

“It’s normally _you_ in that bed…”

Nicolas nodded.

“Though, you’ve never been here under these circumstances…”

The twilight looked at the boy curiously. He had come to the conclusion that Worick must have been mugged on his way home…

The doctor-in-training sighed, “Do you know what happened to him?”

“mUggED?” Nicolas croaked.

A shake of the head, “Raped.”

Nicolas’ eyes shot back to Worick. His skin was prickling with the flood of emotions he felt. The most overwhelming of them all being anger. He wanted to know who had done this, who had the audacity to do something so _vile_. He had to kill them. Just like he’d done those years ago at the Arcangelo estate. He had to kill them.

 

* * *

 

 

Worick’s eye fluttered open, only to be instantly blinded by the bright light above. He groaned as his body caught up with his consciousness and the dull aches started up. He heard a jingling of chain to his side and looked to see Nicolas sitting in a chair by his bedside, legs folded up to his chest and arms wrapped around them.

The blond attempted to sit up, but a sharp pain jolting through his backside halted him. Nicolas was instantly standing by his side. Worick looked up to the wide, dark eyes that were staring down at him; the perpetual dark circles underneath.

“I’m guessing Theo already told you… the extent of my injuries…” 

Nicolas nodded slowly. [How did this happen? Big Mama usually keeps things safe]

Worick shook his head, looking away. “This didn’t happen at Big Mama’s…”

The twilight furrowed his brow as he stood silently, waiting for an explanation.

“There was a man at _Pussy_ last night. He pulled me aside and told me I could be making a lot more money if I went to work with him. I’ve been… I’ve been getting less and less customers at _Pussy,_ Nic. Big Mama said it’s because I’m getting older. That her clientele have taste for the young and innocent…”

[You went with him?]

A sigh, “Yeah. I didn’t know…” he paused, biting his lip, “I didn’t know they would be so _rough_ , or that there’d be so many of them…”

Against his shame, Worick flicked his gaze to Nicolas and was shocked by the expression on the teen’s face. He’d seen that cold expression once before, years ago when his family…

“But it’s fine!” Worick said, probably too loudly considering Nicolas couldn’t even hear him. “If I talk to the guy and set up some limits I’m sure…” he swallowed heavily, knowing that this was only talk, that the man who had allowed this to happen to him didn’t give a shit about his well-being. “…We need the money Nic. I can’t go back to Big Mama’s, I’m not making enough there. And if you can deal with all the injuries you get from your jobs, then surely I can…”

A loud crash interrupted him, the sound of the wooden chair by his bed being kicked into the wall. After taking several deep breaths, Nicolas turned to face him again.

“nO mORE,” he growled out.

 

 

Despite Nicolas’ outburst, two weeks later found Worick making his way to the shady building a few blocks away from _Pussy_. His injuries had mostly healed, only a few faint bruises on his wrists that were hardly visible in the dim light. He’d managed to convince Nicolas that he’d be going back to Big Mama once he healed up… Hopefully he’d be left in well enough state that the twilight wouldn’t have to know he’d come to _this_ place instead.

The front door creaked open and he was instantly assaulted by the stench of cigarettes and something sour. The room was dark, couches scattered about with drugged-out, naked men on them. They couldn’t have been much older than Worick.

He made his way to the center of the room, where Damien sat in a lush looking chair, a small table beside him that had neat lines of white powder and a rolled up dollar bill. Damien saw him approaching and a disgusting grin took over the older man’s face, the drooping skin around his eyes crinkling.

“Well if it isn’t our little princess, come back to have some more fun? My boys must have been a little rough on you last time; it’s been a couple of weeks hasn’t it?”

Worick swallowed before tilting his head and letting the ever-so familiar fake smile take over. He strode forward, letting his hips sway just the way the girls at _Pussy_ had taught him. “They certainly could be a bit more gentle this time…” he purred, ignoring the twisting nausea in his gut.

Damien leaned back in his chair and snuffed out the cigarette that had been ashing away between his fingertips. “You want special treatment, huh? That’s not how things work here. Boys?”

Suddenly hands were gripping at him, pushing him down to the floor. He tried to struggle but he was out numbered and out muscled. He felt a hand reach down to the button of his pants as his face was pressed down into the concrete and the panic hit him full force.

He couldn’t do this, _he couldn’t do this._ “Stop! Please no! I’ve changed my mind, let me go!”

The only response was a round of devious chuckles and the sound of belts unbuckling. Just as he was about to scream again, the hands holding him down released him. He went limp against the cold concrete, gripping at his own clothing and clenching his eye shut.

He heard the sound of slicing, followed by a dull _thump_ of something hitting the ground beside him. “What the _fuck_!” he heard Damien shout, a tinge of uncharacteristic fear in the man’s voice.

Worick slowly opened his eye and quickly scooted back. The decapitated head of one of Damien’s men was in front of him. He looked around and saw the rest of Damien’s crew standing with their guns drawn looking around frantically.

“ _Shit!”_ Someone screamed followed by another sound of metal slicing through meat.

“It’s a fucking tagged!”

“Fuck… I’m getting out, fuck this!”

“You fucking cowards take him ou—grrhah”

Gunshots.

Panic.

Screams.

The sounds of a massacre. It was just like… just like…

Worick finally spotted him right as he drove his blade through one of the remaining lackeys. Nicolas, standing in the center of several strewn and sliced up bodies, covered in blood that wasn’t his own, eyes glowing with his intent to kill… he’d likely overdosed on celebrer and followed him here.

The twilight turned to face the last man left alive, Damien. The man was on the floor, damn near groveling as sweat dripped down his face.

“Please! Whatever you want you can have it! Just don—“

 _Slice_.

 _Slice_.

 _Slice_.

He didn’t stop… he kept bringing his blade down again and again, more and more of that tainted blood spraying over him with each unnecessary blow.

Worick crawled forward, his legs felt heavy as did his heart. Nicolas was losing it.

“Nic!” he screamed out in vain. The other teen just kept hacking away at the dismembered body in front of him.

The blond finally found it in him to stand and run to Nicolas, gripping the other’s wrist before he could swing again. Nicolas froze and turned his head to Worick, a small glimmer of recognition in his too-wide eyes.

“Stop…” Worick pleaded, hoping that in this frenzied state his friend could still read his lips. He felt the arm in his grasp relax, and he let go of his wrist, watching as the blood covered blade was sheathed.

In the next moment he felt strong, but thin arms wrapped around him. The blood that clung to Nicolas was soaking into his clothes, but the shorter teen held him tight.

“nO mORe.”

 

 

“That boy’s a monster…” The police officer murmured as he surveyed the scene. The male prostitutes were being led out, cloaked in the thin blankets his fellow officers supplied. He turned his attention back to the two teenagers in front of him. Neither of them appeared to have any injuries despite the amount of blood that covered them.

He sighed and rubbed the back of his head. “I suppose I should thank you two. We’ve been looking for a way to take Damien and his crew out for months. So don’t worry about charges being pressed. I’m sure the big four will be happy to hear this menace has been taken care of. You two go home and clean yourselves up. We’ll be in contact.”

Worick wasn’t sure what he meant by “We’ll be in contact,” but he wanted to get home and wash the filth off of him. With Nicolas in tow, they made their way back to their shabby apartment and towards the bath.

The blond started stripping, as did Nicolas. It wasn’t uncommon for them to bathe together, seeing as it saved them on the water heating bill. Nicolas let Worick stand under the spray first, as he always did.

The water circled the drain, a light shade of pink as the blood rinsed away. Once they’d both washed, Worick plugged the drain, letting the tub fill up. As usual, Nicolas went to leave the tub and let Worick soak, but the blond stopped him, tugging him back by the wrist.

Nicolas looked at him questioningly, but silent as ever.

“Stay,” Worick said quietly.

And he did. Nicolas looked fairly unsure of himself as he sat with his knees to his chest in the warm water. It made Worick smile, seeing his friend be so awkward. He wondered if Nicolas had ever just soaked after a shower.

He scooted forward, wrapping his fingers around Nicolas’ ankles and pulling his legs out straight. “You’re supposed to relax, you know?” he chastised playfully.

Reluctantly, Nicolas straightened out, leaning back on the edge of the tub. Worick could see the scars that marked across the other’s torso, one particularly deep one on his lower abdomen.  He crawled forward, and reached out slowly, Nicolas’ curious eyes watching him as he trailed his fingers over the scar, feeling the raised skin, the jagged edges.

He heard Nicolas let out a small breath and looked up. The dark haired teen had a faint blush on his cheeks, likely not used to being touched so gently. Worick continued dancing his fingers over the scar as he watched Nicolas raise a hand. He reached out towards his face, but stopped halfway. Worick noted the uncertainty on the other’s face and gave him an encouraging nod.

Nicolas continued reaching forward, until his thumb touched lightly at Worick’s scarred eye. The blond let out a breath at the contact, tilting his head so that his cheek rested in the palm near his face.

He closed his good eye and breathed in slowly as he felt Nicolas gingerly caress his bad eye with his thumb.

What were they?

Normal and twilight?

Contract holder and mercenary?

Master and follower?

Friends?

Or just two fucked up teenagers that needed each other?

He didn’t know, he didn’t care to put a label on it.

He let his hand slip lower down the tanned skin of the other’s stomach, opening his eye to look at the muscles, so well defined in front of him. Nicolas’ hand also moved, turning so that his thumb now rested on Worick’s bottom lip.

Worick used his knees to nudge the other’s legs apart so he could inch closer between them. Nicolas tensed, sitting up slightly and opened his mouth to speak, “wOr-ck…”

Worick smiled down at him, not the fake smile he used on his clients, but a genuine one as he leaned in to press his lips to Nicolas’. He heard a raspy, confused grunt from the other and leaned back, smiling even wider at the puzzled face he saw.

Using one hand to tilt Nicolas’ chin up, he kissed him again. With more force this time, licking lightly now and again until the other finally spread his lips, allowing the other in tentatively.

They’d been through so damn much together, _too_ damn much. If there was any one person on this planet that Worick would actually want to touch in this way, it had to be Nicolas. As their mouths continued moving together, Worick’s with far more skill, he pressed his hips forward until their groins grazed each other.

Nicolas gasped as Worick sighed. The blush on Nicolas’ cheeks had deepened, dusting across to his ears.

“wOr-ck… Wwha aRe We dOing?” his voice seemed even deeper than it usually was.

“I… I don’t know,” Worick answered honestly. He didn’t know what they were doing. Was there something there between them? Or were they just seeking solace in each other; seeking for the gentle comfort the world had denied them. He didn’t know…

“Do you want me to stop?”

A shake of the head.

A smile.

And more kissing.

Nicolas really needed work on that part, Worick thought with a smile. He let his hands trail over the other’s skin; across his chest, up and down his arms, over his shoulder, up his neck, into his wet hair.

“You can touch me too,” he said once he’d gotten Nicolas’ attention, grabbing one of the teen’s hands and pressing it to his chest. He watched as Nicolas stared at his own hand as it slid down the pale chest in front of him.

Worick hummed and Nicolas looked up at him with question in his eyes. Worick supposed he had felt his hum and grinned. “It feels good when you touch me, Nic…”

Nicolas’ eyes widened fractionally and his eyes trained back in to where his hand had paused, picking up the motion once more in sliding farther down. Slowly, slowly… below the water…

Worick panted and canted his hips forward when Nicolas’ hand stopped just at where his pubic hair started. The movement caused their equally erect arousals to touch momentarily, resulting in both of them letting out a harsh breath.

The blond slipped his hand under the water to where Nicolas’ had paused and grabbed it, moving it to his own cock. He whined and tilted his head back when Nicolas finally took the initiative and tightened his grasp.

He moved his own hand and circled his fingers around Nicolas’, immediately starting to stroke. The teen under him writhed and let out muted grunts, hips mindlessly moving while his hand flexed. Worick started moving his own hips, urging Nicolas to move his hand over him.

The water around them sloshed as they built a rhythm. It was nothing like it was when Worick was with clients. It was clumsy, awkward, and lacked any of his usual standard of finesse. But it was incredible nonetheless. He watched with his mouth hung open, watched as the twilight under him that could probably crush him with his bare hands came apart. Nicolas’ eyes were open, staring down at the movement happening below the surface of the water. His mouth was opened around the raspy moans he probably wasn’t aware he was letting out.

Eventually his head fell back, eyes clenching shut while his hips stuttered up into Worick’s hand.

“wOr-ck… wOr-ck… nngh!”

He felt the cock in his hand throb several times, in synch with the tiny thrusts and spurts of cum spilling out into the bath water.

“Nic…” Worick whispered in reverence as he leaned forward, plastering his lips over the moist spread ones that still panted away. He moved his hand to cover Nicolas’ which was loosely still holding onto his own erection.

Forcing his grip to tighten, Worick thrust into the ring of fingers fervently, the image of a blissed out Nicolas before him. It didn’t take long before he was adding his own essence to the bath water. They gasped and panted together, lips still touching.

When Worick finally caught his breath and sat back on his knees, the doubts and fear began to creep into his mind.

_Now what?_

Worick had never had any type of sexual contact outside of his job. He could _feel_ the difference. When he fucked women for work, there was no heavy tightness in his chest afterwards… there was no overwhelming feeling of wanting to stay with that person…

He looked up to Nicolas, who was glaring at the water. He followed his line of sight and saw a glob of white, half-floating in the tub. Looking back to Nicolas, the twilight met his gaze and huffed.

[Gross.] he signed, pointing to the glob of cum.

Worick couldn’t hold the laugh that bubbled up in his throat. Nicolas only glared at him harder.

[Next time, we do this in bed like normal people.]

And altogether the weight in his chest lifted. The world may be a fucked up place; but together, they might just be alright.

**Author's Note:**

> I have such strong feelings for these two ugh. I hope this was okay~  
> Comments and kudos are greatly appreciated (●♡∀♡)
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](http://nelleri.tumblr.com/)


End file.
